To the Death
by slysadie
Summary: The odds aren't in the favor for Kurt, a poor boy from District 6, or Blaine, the son of a rich land owner from 10 the day of the reaping. What happens when worlds collide in the arena and a bloodthirsty battle for Victor ensues?  Eventual Klaine
1. Chapter 1 The Reaping

**So Like I said I was having some emotions and here I am... Hopefully you guys like it. This contains no Hunger Games characters. It's just Glee, but in Panem.**

**Also I'm not Suzanne Collins, nor am I Ryan Murphy unfortunately. It's really a shame. SMH...**

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><p>Kurt looked up, heart pounding. No thoughts passed through his head. Not one. The shock was too great. It felt like he was looking at the world through a long tunnel. Every sound was muffled, and the only thing he could make out was his heart pounding. It wasn't going as fast as he would have thought under the circumstances. Instead it was slowing down as like it wanted to just give up and throw in the towel then and there.<p>

A hand pushed him from behind, bringing some of Kurt's senses back. He looked over his shoulder to see who had pushed him. It was a boy from his school, staring, tying to usher him forward. He could feel other eyes on him as well, as they realized it was Kurt whose name had been picked, but that he wasn't moving. Slowly as though the ground were being pulled out from beneath him, Kurt began walking forward. He blinked, the world still fuzzy around the edges, as he looked out at the crowd from the stage where he was standing adjacent to his female counterpart.

He blinked and realized he couldn't remember coming up there. He had been in the crowd what seemed only a nanosecond ago. Time was slipping away painfully quickly. The District 6 escort, Emma Pillsbury, who had just plucked Kurt's name from thousands of others, then asked for volunteers. Nobody spoke up. What seemed to be only a moment later Mayor Figgins is finished reading the Treaty of Treason that Kurt had not absorbed a word of. Now instead of silence there is a faint ringing. An omnipresent buzz. Kurt stares straight ahead, ignoring it.

Mayor Figgins motioned for Kurt and the other tribute to shake hands. Kurt turned to face his opponent. She was a pretty Asian girl, and when he held her hand in his it was shaking like a leaf. He tried to smile in a reassuring kind of way, but his face just made a tiny spasm, then went back to its mask of shock. The anthem of Panem played, and the world went back into fast-forward. Before Kurt could think he was sitting in an old room in the Justice Building. It was well furnished, but seemed musty and under used.

The moment he was left alone to await family and friends he thought he would break down. He felt like breaking down and crying. Like attaching himself to the floor and never letting go. Instead he simply sat and waited. Any sign of emotion let out now would show later. He needed to look good for the cameras. This was something he understood well. When he watched the games growing up he always paid special attention to the early stages. That's when you can see who will make it, and who won't. Any sign of weakness now would affect him for the rest of his life, which in all probability would be very short. He took deep breaths. A moment later his father burst into the room. He didn't say anything. Burt Hummel was a man of very few words, but lots of emotions. He expressed those through gestures. He hugged his son for several minutes, before pulling back to search his face.

"How're you holding up?" he asked gruffly.

"I'm fine." Kurt's voice came out in a choked whisper so that it was almost funny. His father nodded, understanding the lie, and why it was necessary.

"Son. You will come home. You're smart, resourceful. You have the skills to win this thing." Kurt attempted to smile at his father's returned lie. He felt his eyes begin to shine with tears, but he blinked them away.

"While I'm gone you take care of yourself, o.k.?" Kurt said, looking his father in the eye."Don't worry too much. Whatever happens is mine to deal with. You stressing yourself out is bad for your health." Kurt remembered when barley a year ago his father had had a near fatal heart attack. Luckily District 6 had a semi-functioning health facility. Burt was strong, and in relatively good shape from years of laboring, and pulled through. Kurt got the message while working his shift on an assembly line. His job was to screw in the final piece of a locomotive engine. Kurt's delicate fingers where surprisingly good at this kind of thing. They were nimble and quick.

Kurt had an eye for mechanics. He could see the balance, the way things worked together. He remembered their neighbor running in to tell him the news. The panic that rose in his throat. Kurt blocked out those memories now, as he sat, holding his father's hand on the couch. Time slipped away again, like sand falling through a sift. There was just no way to hold it. A Peace Keeper marched in and told them it was time for Kurt to leave. Kurt looked around at the room, briefly lamenting that there was no one else for him to say good bye to. He turned to his father one last time, but didn't smile. His dad deserved more than a lie.

"I love you." was all he said, before turning and marching through the door, his head held high.

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><p>Blaine looked up at Wes's voice calling him. He was riding a horse past huge gated areas full of cattle. They went on and on. Row after row of the large animals staring at him lazily. They were all white, with on thick black band around their middle. That designated them as food for the poor. All animals shipped to the capitol where free range, and grass fed. Blaine sighed at the site of these malnourished, diseased animals. He turned his eyes away now from the sea of black and white to see Wes and David approaching him.<p>

"Blaine it's almost 1:00" David said, looking down at his watch.

"Yeah we have to get going." Wes added. Both of their voices were lacking motion. Usually they were very cheerful, but today was the reaping. Blaine nodded and got off his horse. None of them said a thing as they walked back to the stables. Blaine sadly led his horse Sadie, back in her stall trying not to think it might be the last time he saw her. Don't think like that he scolded himself. Of course you'll come back. Blaine's family was one of the wealthiest in District 10, so his name had been entered the minimal number of times.

"Why is it you always visit the District cattle farms?" asked David as they walked down a path towards the town.

"It makes me sad." Blaine replied, furrowing his brow. "I don't really know. I guess it's just… hard to explain."

Wes and David exchanged a glance. Sometimes they just couldn't understand Blaine. They reached the town square, which was already packed with people anxiously watching the justice building, or T.V. screens, depending on how close they were. It was eerily quiet, especially considering the huge crowd that was gathered there was. District 10 was actually huge, with several towns, but this was the largest. Blaine and his two best friends pushed their way to the roped off area for boys aged 12-18. As they were 16, and therefore had their names entered more times, they stood near the front. They watched as the mayor made his opening speech, telling the story of Panem, and how the Hunger Games began. He finishes with "It is both a time for repentance, and a time for thanks." Before turning and taking his seat. The District 10 escort Terri Latro stood up and teetered over to the podium, smiling broadly. Blaine hates terri and everything she represents. Her Capitol clothes disgust him. He frowns as she says "Ladies first!" then snatches a slip of paper out of a large glass ball.

"Brittany S. Pierce!" She reads aloud. An athletic blonde girl grinningly steps out of the crowd. Blaine frowned, as he watched her head towards the stage. Brittany was one of the sweetest people he had ever met. She was also one of the stupidest, and always assumed the best in everyone. She didn't deserve this. No one did. Blaine clenched his fists in anger. Now Terri was reaching her hand into the second glass ball. Blaine watched as her fingers grasped around for a moment, then caught a single slip. They delicately took the paper pinched between two fingers and pulled it out slowly, so slowly. She looked at it, cleared her throat and read out in a high velar voice "Blaine Anderson!"

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><p><strong>So whadja think?<strong>


	2. Chapter 2 Trains Moving Forward

**Hi! SO I posted the last chapter in a bit of a rush and I feel like I should include more of an explanation now. This is a fic in which all of the Glee characters are in Panem (pre-rebellion). It's also extreme Klaine, but not until somewhere in the middle. This isn't the same arena as the book or anything, but there will be some plot similarities. Anyway please read and enjoy!**

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><p>Kurt has never been on a train, although he'd helped build their engines more times than he could count. The past hour and a half had been agonizing. Saying good bye to his father, then trying to look brave, maybe even intimidating for the cameras as he boarded the train to the Capitol. It had been excruciating. Kurt just wasn't really cut out for this type of thing. Usually he let his emotions show and tried to do what his heart told him, but that's not how a victor is supposed to act.<p>

The platform at the train station is crammed with cameras as Kurt and his girl tribute counterpart board the locomotive that will take them to their death. She appears to be a year or two younger than him and she trips at the station due to tears leaking down her cheeks. She looks like she has been crying for quite a while because her eyes are red, puffy, and swollen.

Kurt catches her as she falls and helps her on to the train. She gives him a grateful yet watery smile. Emma Pillsbury directs them both to their rooms in separate cars. It is by far the fanciest place Kurt had ever been, including the Mayor's house, which he has entered on precisely one occasion.

It was when he was 8, and his school had put on a musical. Overall it was a joke. Nobody had the time or money to be bothered with such a silly form of entertainment, but Kurt had done his best. Those who were upper class enough to go see it at Mayor Figgin's house said his voice was exquisite. Kurt sang every day from then on out.

Now he is standing in a bedroom that is rocking back and forth, back and forth. Kurt's head spins as the realization of what had happened swoops down on him. He barely makes it to the toilet before he is puking.

Kurt isn't the type of guy with a weak stomach, he'd spent years working in smelly factories, but what strikes him now is much worse than motion sickness or anything of the like. It is a cold dread that has been sneaking up on him since his name had been picked.

Now the full force hits him in the gut, causing him to double over the toilet until his body is spent and empty. Even then he dry heaves several times, stomach convulsing painfully, beads of sweat gliding down the side of his face.

After several moments on the floor, trying to rally some energy, Kurt strips and gets into the shower. His apartment complex back home had running water, but you had to pump it with a big faded green leaver. Even then the water was rarely clean, and always cold.

Usually it came out specked with rust from the worn lead pipes and brown in color. Kurt shudders, remembering taking showers in the winter. He and his dad's apartment was also extremely drafty and when he was little it wasn't uncommon for Kurt to get sick from taking cold showers then sleeping in a room no warmer than 47 degrees.

Kurt stares at a loss at all of the buttons and confusing controls that make up an entire wall of his bathroom. He finally just pushes some at random and steppes in. It's scalding, and normally he would have jumped out, but this feels good. It seems like it's burning his skin, but it feels like he's getting rid of everything. He allows the boiling water to kill everything he feels crawling over himself. Shame that he won't win, fear that his death will be painful, worry over his father's health. The last to go is the self-pity he feels when he realizes he won't really be missed at all. He cries as well, his salty hot tears mixing in with the fresh clean water that surrounds him, making his skin burn red.

After pressing some more random buttons that end up ejecting lavender scented spray into the bathroom, Kurt gets out, picks up his clothes and starts to leave, when he hears a small ping, ping, ping. He turns and sees a small piece of an engine accelerator rolling across the floor from where it fell out of his pants pocket.

He furrows his brow picking it up. It's a very familiar piece of metal, one he used every day, but this one's weight seems a little off. He turns it over in his hands, thinking. Then he remembered hugging his dad before he left. He must have slipped it into my pocket, as token for district 6, Kurt thinks, his face twitching in what might be a smile. He pulls on some clothes he finds in a closet and puts the piece of scrap metal in his pocket, comforted by the feel of its weight on his skin.

At dinner Kurt finally remembers who the girl tribute is. Her name is Tina and she used to work the shift before him at the factory. Kurt would walk past her every day on his way to the assembly line. Now she sits across from him, crying insistently. It started as soft whimpering on the platform boarding the train, turned into slow weeping and has now escalated to a loud sob.

Kurt grimaces at the noise, but refuses to retrieve any of the emotions he has washed away. He simply avoids her gaze and tries to enjoy the food. It isn't hard actually; the food is the most amazing that Kurt has ever had in his life.

He has no idea what any of it is, because all he has ever eaten before is processed gruel that didn't really resemble much of anything. This is solid and flavorful, so he tunes out Tina's crying and instead lets the food flow over himself where emotions had been an hour ago. Emma, District 6's escort does her best to make conversation, but it is clear she is disappointed with this year's tributes.

Everyone wants strong tributes that will win, but obviously Kurt and Tina don't quite fit that bill. That's not to say Kurt can't handle himself. He's tall and has some muscles from the factory; it's just that he doesn't weigh very much. Tina doesn't seem emotionally stable enough to stand a chance. After the tense dinner Kurt, Emma, Tina, Will Schuester and April Rhodes, their mentors, and the designer Holly Holiday all head to watch the recap of the reaping.

Kurt sits by himself, avoiding contact with everyone else. He doesn't like to be touched very much. On screen he watches as tribute after tribute is reaped. Kurt doesn't just see children being reaped, Kurt sees an opponent. Someone he may or may not have to kill. Kurt Hummel is ready to win.

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><p>Blaine's departure from District 10 could be easily described as emotionally traumatizing. His good byes are entirely heart wrenching. His friends whom he went to school with, have all piled into the small room in the Justice Building to wish him luck, and although they mean well, and had intended to lift his spirits, in reality they just cause him more pain. The way they say goodbye speaks volumes.<p>

Nobody expects him to come home. Blaine is in good shape, and fairly well fed, as he is upper class, but he is very short for his age, and not known to like getting his hands all that dirty. Wes claps his hand on his friend's shoulder and just gives him a long look in the eye. David just right out hugs his friend with enough force to crack a rib, with no reservations for personal space.

Their other schoolmates crowd around Blaine trying to comfort him, but it doesn't help. In the end Blaine's brothers, Shane and Cooper pin a Warbler badge to his chest. It's their club at school, and they want it to be their token for District 10.

Blaine boards the train with Brittany, who is about a year older than him. She smiles happily at the cameras, apparently not understanding what is going on. Blaine does his best to play nice for the reporters, doing what he can to seem like a good guy. It isn't all that much of a reach for him of course, because well, that's who Blaine is. Ask anyone around the district and they'll tell you, Blaine's a good kid. You never hear about him getting into any sort of trouble, because he's a good boy.

Most people go on to say "He'll make his old man proud one day." And that's Blaine Anderson, so when cameras are pushed into his and Brittany's faces at every turn, he just smiles as politely as possible, and steps into the car, wrapping his arm around the girl to help her up. Servants escort them to separate parts of the train, and once alone Blaine expects himself to collapse. That's what he told himself he'd do. It was a promise in fact, something to get him through all of his goodbyes. Now he is supposed to be curled up in a corner bawling his eyes out and wallowing in self-pity because he's sure there's a 100% chance of him dying in the next couple of weeks and self-loathing because he's too weak of a person to do anything about it.

Instead he looks around the room, intrigued. It's well furnished and reminds him of Wes's home back home. Wes is the mayor's son, so naturally their house is the biggest and by far the most grand in the entire district, but this outstrips it. Everything here seems new and pristine like it's never been touched. Blaine wonders absently if any other tributes have stayed in this exact room and if so how many.

He shudders a little, but again, not a tear falls from his face. He flops on the bed, exhausted, from what he's not sure, and wonders who will feed his horse. He should have reminded Cooper. He definitely wouldn't count on Shane to do it, who has always been the spaz of the three brothers. Blaine smiles, nostalgia taking control of rational thoughts.

Rather than think about his situation, Blaine numbs it with memories from his childhood, slipping back through the years to when Cooper would always protect him, and in turn, he would protect Shane. He's beyond both of them now, but his mind doesn't permit him to dwell on it.

An hour passes and it feels like five minutes. Blaine sits up on his bed, feeling like he's wakening from a dream even though he's pretty sure he didn't fall asleep. He gets up and walks across the room to see a servant girl beckoning him to come for dinner. Blaine follows obediently, still thinking about little things and not really accepting the situation. He sits down at the table across from District 10's only living victor, Shannon Bieste. Her last name is oddly fitting, because she is a beast.

Her triumph in the games is legendary, for she'd one by killing a man in her bare hands. Blaine swallows a little, glad he's not going into an arena with her, before remembering he could have much worse. Shannon smiles at him reassuringly though and Blaine feels a little better, if not much. Next to him is Brittany, who seems a little vacant, but that's not unusual. The others at their table are Terri, the escort, and Sandy Ryerman, both Blaine and Brittany's designer.

He's seems to be the living embodiment of the Capitol, wearing a baby blue powder wig, and an outfit that sparkles. He's a little too loud, and Blaine feels a headache coming on, although he tries telling himself to man, up, there'll be much worse to face soon. Terri and him smile, talking throughout the entire dinner, effectively ignoring everyone else, absorbed in their own lives. Shannon looks like she's trying not to kill them both as she does her best to engage Brittany in a conversation. Blaine can't help but snort a little at the obvious friction in the relationships, making everyone look at him in concern. He just shakes his head. After the meal, which is exquisite and by far the most elaborate Blaine has ever seen, they all sit down to watch a recap of the reaping.

Blaine sits on the arm chair to the couch and fidgets constantly, a trait that seems to piss Terri off, making him do it all the more. They watch as name after name is pulled and it's completely overwhelming, but a few tributes stick in Blaine's mind in particular. There's a huge girl from District 1 that Blaine hopes he'll never have to face in real life because she looks like she could squish him under one shoe. Her facial expression doesn't change throughout the entire thing. There's a boy called from District 5 who's almost as big as the girl, who frowns at the cameras with an expression that seems to say they've all personally offended him and now they're going to pay.

His girl counterpart is small and clearly handy-capable. Blaine's heart sinks a little as watched her walk onto the stage. The games are repulsive. The only other who sticks out in Blaine's mind is another huge guy from District 11. Blaine sighs. Why does he have to be so little?

After they finish watching the replays, Blaine heads to his bed. He lies down in the same spot he occupied before and tries to sort through some of his emotions although they're a bit of a jumbled up mess. He wonders why he isn't entirely devastated by his fate, why he isn't sobbing, or giving up on life. The he realizes he has. He accepted his fate the moment his name was called at the reaping. Blaine Anderson is ready to die.

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><p><strong>So? Any thought, corrections, ideas you know where the review button is! Please n't hesitate to submit anything :) I'm hoping to start updating this fic on a much more regular basis (I know it's been forever) but the incentive of reviews always helps!<strong>


	3. Chapter 3 Dream of the Past

**Hurray! Chapter 3 for the win! I would like to thank my great beta for heloing me make this chapter WAY better than it was, because she rocks :)**

**ok on with the story:**

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><p>Kurt jolts awake, and is out of his bed and across the room faster than a speed of light. This isn't his bed. Then it all comes crashing down like a tidal wave.<p>

No, more of a tsunami really.

He'd been chosen at the reaping.

He is going into the arena.

Kurt Hummel is a tribute.

He takes a few deep calming breaths, then rubs some of the sleep from his eyes. He feels surprisingly refreshed. He'd not expected sleep to come last night, but after watching the recap of the reapings, he had collapsed into bed, his body giving into sleep almost immediately. He looks around, unsure of what to do. It can't be breakfast time yet, and outside of his car window he could see nothing but darkness. Kurt had been awoken by a nightmare, although not one of his usual ones.

_He's running past machine, after machine._

_There are endless rows of them, stretching further than the eye can see._

_It goes on forever, never stopping_

_Blood pounding through his veins._

_Machines pumping in his ears._

_A factory_

_Ten factories_

_One hundred factories_

_He makes it out of one_

_Only to enter another_

_He keeps running_

_Everything that makes him human,_

_His heart thudding in his chest_

_Sweat leaking down his face_

_Sharp stabs of pain going up his legs each time his foot hits cement_

_They all blend with the machines_

_There are so many_

_So many people_

_Following_

_And then Kurt sees it_

_He's outside now, but not free_

_He can see building upon building_

_Factory upon factory_

_Machine upon machine_

_Person upon person_

_Each one part of the machines_

_That make up the factories_

_That make up the buildings_

_All identical_

Kurt used to jolt out of his sleep every night right after that realization. It never came easily either. In every single dream he had to run. To see the world for what it was, and each night he was devastated by humanity once again.

Last night was different. It started out the same. The running, the pounding, the sweat, but turned. He wasn't running through a factory. He was in the arena, though it was continually changing its setting, as his psyche couldn't decide what it could possibly be. He ran passed trees, rivers, cacti, mountains, even giant mushrooms. There were tributes all around him.

_His blood tempo too fast_

_Fire in his limbs_

_He's so tired_

_But he has to keep running_

_All around him children are murdering each other_

_It's not arbitrary_

_Each killing is precise._

_A thorough practiced motion_

_And that's what is terrifying_

_Each kid wants to kill_

_To win_

_And then Kurt realizes the worst part of all_

_So does he_

_Because they're all part of the machine too_

He showers again. It's all he can think to do. There are definitely some fancy gadgets lying around somewhere, but Kurt's sure he wouldn't know how to work them.

This time he's more careful with which buttons he presses, making sure it's not scalding again. He stands there, watching as rivulets of water cascade down his skin. _You aren't a machine. You're human. You deserve to win just like anybody else._ _Everyone deserves life_. He closes his eyes and pretends he's standing in rain. There's only one park in District 6, and Kurt love's it.

Whenever it rained he would either go inside or go to the park. It's the only place in the whole metropolis that didn't feel dirty when it rained. There the droplets felt clean, like they were washing away the filth rather than just adding another layer.

Kurt pictures himself there now, then shakes his head, eyes still closed. He'd been about to lament how he'd never get to go there again, but stopped the thoughts in their tracks. He would go there again. Whatever it took. He'd see his father, and his home. The bench in the park he and his mom always sat in.

_I am going to win. I am going to win. I am going to win. I am going to win. I am going to win. I am going to win._

He repeats the mantra, at first in his head, then out loud. Each time his voice get a little bit stronger, a little louder, more self-assured. He could win.

Breakfast is awkward to say the least. The day before everything was tense, and the feeling seems only to have escalated. Kurt raises his eyebrows questioningly at Tina across the table. She shrugs, looking equally confused. _Shouldn't Will and April be trying to get to know them, asking about strengths and weakness or something?_

Kurt glances to his side. Emma is scrubbing her immaculate silver wear with her napkin. Upon closer inspection her eyes are red like she's been crying. Will is sitting across from her, not looking up from his plate. April isn't up yet.

Kurt frowns, thinking about April. She's pretty well known as a drunk and is notorious for her comments on the games, always managing to offend some district or person in the Capitol. It used to seem funny, but now that she's supposed to help him survive the humor is harder to find.

"Where's April?" he asks finally, breaking the silence. Emma's eyes widen, "Well I'm sure she's all worn out from last night."

The comment is accompanied with a meaningful glance from Emma to Will, who continues staring at his food. Kurt sighs. The relationships of adults don't seem very important to him right now, as his life is in their hands.

"What are we doing today? Will we be going over any strategies?"

Emma takes a deep breath, and chooses to overlook her current drama.

"We'll be entering the Capitol in just a few minutes, then your prep teams and stylists will spend all day getting you ready for the Opening Ceremonies." She explains. "Now I know the Capitol can be overwhelming at first, but I think you can really learn to love it after just a short while."

She ends her little pitch with a wide smile, and a soft "Hurray." looking back and forth between Kurt and Tina expectantly. Kurt just raises his eyebrows again. Tina looks slightly affronted by the idea that she could love the Capitol, but neither says anything. Kurt sighs, going back to his food, and that's when he sees the lights of the Capitol for the first time.

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><p>"Blaine! Open the door."<p>

Blaine rolls over on his bed, rubbing his eyes, and then winces. They're red and sore from crying. Apparently he isn't as ready to accept his death as he thought. Last night he'd been so sure he could get through this. He'd had all these ideas about going to his death on his own terms. Being strong to the end and all that. But then the dreams came, and the crying started.

"_Bet'cha can't keep up!"_

"_Wait, come on Cooper, your horse is faster."_

_Cooper turns around, laughing_

"_You're just mad because I'm the better rider!"_

_Blaine pouts, urging his horse to catch up._

_When he gets to the ridge where his older brother is resting her turns around._

"_Where'd Shane go?"_

_Cooper smirks then points ahead of him_

_Blaine fallows his gaze and sees Shane waiting for them near the old Beach tree._

"_I guess he always has been the fastest."_

"_C' mon! Race you there!"_

_And Cooper is off!_

_Blaine laughs, ready to try beating his older brother one last time_

_But then something happens_

_His horse won't move_

_Suddenly it's just him standing on the bluff_

_He can see Cooper and Shane in the distance_

_Leaving him_

_And then they're gone too_

Blaine shudders remembering. It's not that he blames his brothers or anything. _I mean it was my name that got picked in the reaping._ _It's just, well you know, Cooper had said he would never let anything happen to me, and well, things are happening to me_. Blaine bangs his head against the wall as he pulls on some clothes. They aren't as comfortable as his worn denim jeans, button down, and Stetson he always wore back home, but maybe that was just his skin crawling. He was wearing clothes made in the Capitol, something he never wanted to do.

_It wasn't Cooper's fault. I mean what kind of crazy person would volunteer in an outlying district?_ Blaine stumbles over to the door, opening it to see Brittany standing a little too close for comfort.

"Good morning!" she smiles brightly. Blaine tries for a reply, but his throat is scratchy from the long night.

"It's time for breakfast." She says, filling the silence, then taking his hand, pulling him down to the dining car. Blaine sighs. _Brittany definitely doesn't have a full grip on what is going on_.

Shannon and Terri exchange a few words back and forth between courses at breakfast, though there seems to be some tension in the air. Terri is ditzy, giving judging looks to everyone. Shannon eats an entire chicken for each course, making Blaine's stomach churn.

He is one of the wealthier inhabitants of District 10, but he still can't get over the sheer amount of food laid out before him. Almost everything is stuff he's never seen before, and he wonders vaguely if only the very upper-class people can afford it, or if it is even possible to get this much food back in 10. Then he remembers he isn't going to be going back to find out. He turns to his side to see Brittany simply sitting with her mouth open. Blaine's stomach does an involuntary flip as his imagination runs away with him, picturing her dead, mouth gaping, as she no doubt will be very soon. Blaine stops that train of thought, instead following Brittany's line of sight. His mouth falls open as well.

Before them, is the sparkling city known as the Capitol. It is huge, with buildings that go up, up, up into the clouds, and lights that shine brightly in all different colors, twinkling at him. It shouldn't be beautiful. Everything this stands for shouldn't be glorious. But it is. Blaine hates to admit it, especially because he likes to think of himself as a country boy, but the city before him is one of the most amazing things he's ever seen in his life, sending shivers down his spine.

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><p><strong>Did you like it, hate it, want to throw it out the window? leave reviews and let me know :)<strong>


	4. Chapter 4 The Opening Ceremony

**Hi! *hides* I apologize profusely for the wait! like really i'm so sorry. there were APs then finals then summer and vacation and tv and books and procrastination... anyway here is the new chapter! hope you all enjoy :)**

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><p>Kurt smiles tightly at the prep team. He'd woken early with very little sleep the night before, only to be rushed inside the Remake Center, surrounded by peacekeepers. He was greeted immediately by two very flamboyant people, wearing outlandish outfits. They seem to be the epitome of the capitol Kurt thinks as he's pulled happily by the two into a room. They smile at him merrily, and clap their hands together as though they have a new pet to play with.<p>

"Hi I'm Chandler!" greets one, holding out a delicate hand. Kurt looks from it, to the guy's face, arching an eyebrow. Chandler lowers his hand, slightly, glancing at his counterpart. "And I'm Unique." greets the other, smile not dwindling, completely unfazed by Kurt's lack of warmth.

They get straight to the point, chattering back and forth as they command Kurt to strip. Kurt looks down at his body, suddenly self-conscious. The two prep artists look at him expectantly, and finally Kurt pulls off his simple shirt and pants, revealing a pale, toned body.

He ends up taking three different baths, soaking his skin in special oils and soaps that make his skin silky soft and his hair cleaner than it's ever been before.

"You're lucky we don't have to wax you." comments Chandler as he plucks Kurt's eyebrows, "Your skin is so sensitive you would have looked like a plucked chicken."

Unique nods, "Do you moisturize?"

She's rubbing a cool green cream onto his face, making his skin feel healthy and young.

"I try to stay clean and keep grease of my face, but no I don't do anything else."

"Well you are naturally gorgeous!" exclaims Chandler, making Kurt blush.

"Mmm, too bad Holly told us not to make any alterations. Some tasteful tattoos around your cheekbones…" murmurs Unique, looking wistful, "Oh, well you're about done now."

A few minutes later the prep team leave and Kurt is ashamed that he almost misses their presence. They're two of the happiest people he's ever met and even if he despises the way they come by that happiness it did lighten his mood. Kurt scowls to himself. He hates that he finds it hard to hate them. The thing is that they're all the same too. Kurt, forever terrified of the autonomous machines that are the people of his district, realizes that everyone in the Capitol are just as uniform. All of them fight so hard to be, well_, unique_ and stand out, but when everyone's is special, no one is. At least they're happy he thinks morosely.

"Hi I'm Holly Holiday." greets a simply dressed blond woman, striding into the room. Kurt's not sure what he expected. Chandler had been wearing glasses made entirely of some sort of green gem, with a pointy hat covered in feathers. Unique was wearing an outfit made entirely of fur and silk. Holly on the other hand is wearing a simple black outfit with a leather jacket. She has on black eyeliner as well which goes off her eye lids and reaches back towards her hair line, but compliments her facial shape. The effect is stunning. Kurt likes her immediately.

"Are you my stylist?" Kurt asks, though the answer seems fairly obvious.

"I thought you'd never ask." She says, sitting down across from him, although she sits in the chair backwards.

"Turn around." She says, motioning her finger in a circle. By this time Kurt has gotten used to standing naked in front of people, so he turns slowly on the spot, allowing Holly to check him out.

She smiles kindly and tells him to put his robe back on.

"Let's have a chat." She says, leading him out of the sterile white room and into a plush sitting room. There are cushions on the floor and she sits down on one next to a low table heaping with food.

"You eat and I'll talk." She states. Kurt cautiously sits down across from her, not sure what to expect. The food however, calls to him, so he grabs some and starts stuffing his mouth. There's no reason he shouldn't try to put on a few extra pounds before the games.

"You need to get sponsors." Holly points out, not wasting any time. "To be frank with you, I doubt that will happen through your training score, so the opening ceremony is your best chance."

Kurt nods, appreciating that what she said is probably true. It's a little hard to concentrate however as his mouth is filled with some sort of chicken with a delicious crunchy skin that tastes slightly of lemon. Given the chance he would probably marry it.

"I'm the only designer this year for District 6 and I want you and Tina to enter with a bang."

Kurt continues nodding, getting a little apprehensive. The costumes worn by each tribute are meant to reflect the industry in each district. 6 is transportation so they're often dressed as train conductors. One year the tributes were wearing gears strung together to cover the kids' private areas. The effect wasn't a particularly good one.

"I want to focus on the materials used to make the locomotives, not the trains themselves."

Kurt swallows. _I'll be wearing steel underwear for sure. _

An hour later he's dressed and Holly allows him to look in the mirror. The effect is stunning. He's wearing a well cut suit that looks like It's made of bronze. If he weren't moving you'd swear he couldn't but the cloth moves easily, running smoothly under his fingers as he strokes the sleeve. It looks like he's wearing sheets of metal that have been crafted to look like clothes that fit him perfectly.

"Wow." He murmurs. His face also looks different. He has metallic eyeliner and shadow that brings out the different colors in his eyes and his lips shimmer with gold specks. His hair is also streaked with metallic shades. It's dazzling.

Holly grins, admiring her work. "Yes this will do nicely."

* * *

><p>Blaine grits his teeth as Sebastian rips the last patch of hair from his chest. It tingles then stings, just like the rest of his body. Blaine has never waxed before and he hopes he never will again. Then he rolls his eyes to himself because hey, he's never going to think about this kind of thing ever again. He looks down at his smooth torso and tries to imagine it ripped open. Blood smeared over his body and his life seeping out through fatal wounds.<p>

"Hey hot stuff, go take another bath."

Blaine looks at Sebastian for a moment before walking into the next room and sinking down into the huge bathtub. His head sinks down into the suds and it stings his eyes but it's better than keeping it above where Sebastian is staring at him. His gaze has been making him uncomfortable for the entire morning of preparing for the opening ceremony. The other members of his prep team chatter to each other as they go about filing his nails, whitening his teeth and rubbing fancy scrubs into his skin. Then a debate starts about how much they should pluck his eyebrows. Blaine who's now sitting on the edge of the tub wrapped in a towel rubs his thumb over his eyebrow.

"What's wrong with my eyebrows?"

Sebastian smirks and walks over. "Nothing. They're sexy."

Blaine blushes and looks down.

"We'll let Sandy take it from here." says another member of the prep team. The rest nod and follow her out the door, Sebastian going last, turning to wink at Blaine as he closes the door behind him. A moment later a man with spiky pink hair saunters through the door.

"My my what have we here?" he murmurs circling the now standing Blaine like a vulture.

"It's not much to work with," He sighs pushing Blaine into a chair. "but luckily I have a fabulous outfit planned for you and Brittany."

Blaine raises one of his thick eyebrows, starring at the man in front of him. He doesn't even seem human he's so strange and foreign. He's wearing a pink suit that looks like it's made from rattlesnake skin making Blaine shudder. He was bitten by one once when he was pretty young and was almost killed. If his family hadn't had enough money for anti-venom he wouldn't have stood a chance. The stylist's skin is also tinged slightly pink and it really freaks Blaine out. This guy is very…Capitol.

* * *

><p>Kurt glances around the room on sure where he's meant to be. Holly had told him to stand alone to look like he is self-sufficient but hadn't really given him any other instructions. He glances around as other tributes start lining up next to chariots with their mentors and stylists. Where is everyone he thinks to himself, not feeling particularly self-sufficient though he tries to keep his expression calm. Then he spots two glimmering horses and a metallic chariot that match his suit. He walks over to them casually, trying to seem like he knows what to do.<p>

"Kurt?"

Kurt turns to see Tina standing behind him in a dress made from the same material as his. She's wearing a gear in her hair like a flower which matches the one on his lapel. He smiles at her then gets on the chariot. He then reaches back down and helps her climb up next to him.

"Do you know at we're supposed to do?" she asks him, looking around. Her eyes are remarkably tear free and Kurt wonders how on earth the Holly and her prep team had managed to reduce the puffiness from days of crying so well. Whatever it was they did seem to make Tina more confident and she is standing next to Kurt at her full height, looking ready to face the crowds.

"One your dress is stunning and two I suppose we're meant to wait for the rest of our crew."

He looks back towards the elevators, hoping to see Holly, Will, April or even Emma, but instead notices a short guy, wearing very little clothing beyond a cowboy hat. If Kurt could wolf whistle and it was a different time and also place and well he were a different person he might have whistled but instead he blushes and stares determinedly at the horses in front of him because this is so not the time or place for this. Tina gives him a weird look and is about to say something when suddenly the chariot starts moving forward, the horses seeming to know exactly where to go. Kurt gives Tina a reassuring smile and she takes his hand. It's soft and Kurt decides he might as well keep holding on, it could be good to look like he's got an ally.

When their chariot rolls smoothly out into the crowds of people there's a hush then screaming. They love the metal (or not metal) outfits. Kurt doesn't particularly want to suck up to any of these people he despises so much but Tina is smiling and waving and he's still holding her hand so he grins albeit tightly and waves at the flamboyant, loud, and raucous crowd.

_I want to win_

_I deserve to win_

_Even if it means killing other people?_

He waves

_Even then_

_I just want to see my father again_

_Is that too much to ask?_

_At the expense of 23 lives?_

_Why not?_

_Because it's wrong_

_What even defines wrong anyway_

_We all have the right to make it through this_

_Killing to save yourself isn't wrong_

_Killing is always wrong_

_Self-defense is o.k._

_So only killing people who try to kill you?_

_You'll die pretty quickly_

His smile widens

_Shut up_

* * *

><p><strong>I'd love to hear any feedback you guys have. I know there wasn't much Blaine but well he got poked! poked by the dagger! sorry i love sandy but yeah we'll get more Blaine later. again I'm sorry hopefully I'll get back into the swing of writing and update more so yeah. also check out my other new fic<span> I Never Left.<span> It's a ghost!kurt AU. that's all for now *runs away*  
><strong>


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